User blog comment:Bluestripe the Wild/Rise of the Mercenaries/@comment-3135907-20110531215530

Floj looks nervously about. "Er, nothin', I guess,, Raggy." "Then by the fang, 'elp me git all these fruits an' fishes'n'fowl aboard, mate! Where's Gittrag, that ole louse. Suppin' my special damson grog I'll bet, eh?" Ragim suddenly feels a blade at his back. The stoat gulps audibly. "W-Wot dyer want?" "Oh, nothing really," Cloke rasps in a grating tone. "Just a job as Captain of this ship." "Er, um, I ain't th' Cap'n, sir. The Cap'n's underdecks, sick wid plague." Cloke's eyes narrow. "What plague?" "Er, uh, er..." "There isssn't any plague, is there," Cloke says and Ragim goes silent guiltily. "Er, well, we kinda got tired o' th' Cap'n so we tied 'im up an' threw 'im under deck!" pipes Floj. "Mmhmm. Could youuu, try aaand show me after I get rid of this liar? I hate liars..."